Thursday, February 10, 2011

meeting micah

**from my journal entry on february 3**

my brain is going a
hundred different directions right now. i can’t believe that josh and i
met our son this morning. as soon as our new friends, al and lyndsey,
announced that the driver was here to take us to acacia village (our
agency’s transition-type home for children who are being adopted but
are waiting for their parents to pass court), i started getting nervous
and my tummy filled with butterflies. after more than two years of
praying for our son, we were about to meet him for the very first time.

we
all hopped in the van together, and our driver began the – oh, how
should i word this – the treacherous drive to acacia village. it’s not
dangerous in terms of the terrain (with the exception of the occasional
portions of completely missing road); it’s more like a weirdly
kind-of-organized-mass-of-vehicular-chaos. no stop lights, very few
lines on the roads (and when they’re there, they’re ignored), and a
never-ending game of cat and mouse with two-ton toys. more than once we
slammed on our brakes to avoid hitting cars, men running through the
streets, children playing in the middle of the road – not to mention
the goats. lots of goats.

al and lyndsey shared the
wealth of knowledge that they’ve gleaned during their three weeks
living here, and before i knew it, the twenty-minute drive was over,
and i heard, “look, there’s acacia village.” oh. my. word. i can’t
believe this is really happening. the guard let us in, and we drove up
to a simple but beautiful building that’s situated 7,500 feet above sea
level on a stunning piece of property surrounded by lush-looking
mountaintops, a funny-looking italian pasta factory, and a dormant
volcano that guards the landscape from 13,000 feet above. within
seconds of our arrival, precious brown faces began to peer and call to
us through the ground level windows. i don’t know what i was expecting,
but i do know that i was wonderfully taken aback at the joy that exudes
bountifully from that sheltering home. smiles, laughter, and singing
permeated the walls and easily found their way through to the life
outside. the children are well-loved there.

once inside,
we were so sweetly and warmly greeted by the older kids at acacia
village who were gathering to prepare for a day out. one-by-one, they
locked eyes with us, took our hands in both of theirs and each said
with toothy grins, “hello” or “welcome” as if they were sharing with us
their exotic retreat. al and lyndsey’s five-year-old daughter, signey,
opened a bag of candy and offered it to the friends she had begun to
make there, and each boy and girl patiently filed past, warmly thanking
their little blonde benefactor for the single piece of candy they had
each chosen. and before i knew it, they were all gone. the foyer area
grew quiet, and helen – sweet helen – who so giftedly helps operate
acacia village, asked "would you like to meet your baby?" i threw my
hands over my heart and excitedly whispered, yes please!

she took us up
to a second-story balcony area that overlooked the amazing mountains
behind us and told us she would be right back with him. we readied the
video camera and strolled along the sunny patio as we waited. within
minutes, helen walked out of the door with micah in her arms. with our
son. not wanting to scare him, i walked slowly in that direction as i
heard josh behind me frantically whisper something about "not working"
and "what’s going on here?"

it’s true - we have no video
of our first moments with micah. but as josh and i have talked about it
through the day, it’s almost more special that way. no sooner had helen
handed him to me than she quietly snuck away, leaving the three of us
alone to become a family. and so as it turns out, that moment truly is
and will forever be ours alone. i laughed at the wonder i was holding
in my arms and i let the tears roll freely off my cheeks. it was almost
like an athlete who collapses into an exhausted heap of thankfulness
when he finally crosses the finish line of a tremendous race. so much
time, so much work, and so much prayer. and for what? for the precious
baby who stared quietly at me with huge brown eyes at that very moment.

i
don’t even know how long we stayed out there. maybe two hours? we held
our baby, played with his feet, rubbed his soft head, and whispered we
love you so much over and over in his ear. we rejoiced over being able
to pick up on some of his unique quirks and traits: he sucks almost
continually on the knuckle of his right index finger, he giggles
without fail when josh tickles his head or neck with his scruffy beard,
and he makes sweet, quiet murmurs while he sleeps.

which brings me to the most amazing part of our time with him today.

after
a long time of playing, taking pictures, and shooting a couple of short
videos (we figured out the camera problem), micah began to get sleepy.
i cradled him in my arms as he sucked his finger and succumbed to the
excitement of the day. i laid down on the patio with him on my chest
and josh soon came and sat behind me so i could lay my head on his leg.
and there we stayed. 30 minutes? an hour? maybe longer. daddy, mommy,
and new baby boy basking in the heat of the african sun, the cool of
the mountain breeze, and the love and thankfulness of a tremendous
blessing from the lord. huge, exotic-sounding birds joined with the
nearby braying donkeys to compose an appropriate lullaby for our
ethiopian-born son.

no pictures, no video. just perfect.

part
of me feels like i should just stop writing here. this was, after all,
a picturesque ending to an enormously blessed day, but there’s one more
piece of this story that begs to be told. after micah woke up, we took
him with us to the infant room so we could see where his little crib
was. the room was incredibly small – maybe 6 feet by 8 feet – and it
had a row of small bassinet-type cribs lined on one wall. 7 or 8 of
them i think. micah had just been moved to acacia village the weekend
before our arrival so his area was a little more sparse than some of
the other babies’ beds, but my heart leapt for joy a bit when i saw the
name on the next bed over. biniyum. we have some friends from church
back in birmingham who are also adopting from ethiopia (and who
thankfully and prayerfully passed court here last week), and their
precious baby is micah’s next-door neighbor. the boys were born within
days of one another in completely different parts of the country, but
they’re already sharing their lives together 7,500 miles away from
where they will soon live and grow up.

but the story
doesn’t stop there. in the cramp of the room, i hadn’t noticed a
particular little guy laying in a carrier kicking his legs excitedly
near my feet. i took one look at his face and gasped. most of you don’t
know that five days after judah died, we actually received a referral
for another baby. it’s impossible to explain the agony that went into
saying no to a baby who desperately needed a home, but our hearts
needed time to heal. and he needed a family that was ready and waiting
for him with fully-prepared and excited hearts. on august 18, 2010 we
weren’t that family. but there i was, staring at that same face i had
seen so long ago in referral documents. i gingerly lifted up his leg to
read the name tag around his ankle. his name, his story, and a twinge
of guilt came over me. until, that is, i looked at the sole object
laying in his crib.

a photo album.

the
album was full of pictures of a mom, dad, and brother who are in love
with the baby they’ll be traveling back to take home soon. al and
lyndsey met them not long ago and told us what a wonderful family that
sweet little guy is going to have. god has so richly provided for all
of us along the way.

our amazing friends and family - our
hearts are full beyond measure tonight as the sun fades from the
african sky. we’re in a continual state of thankfulness for the
perfection of this day and for the story of adoption that we’ve been so
blessed to take part in. thank you, thank you for the roles that you
have played in this journey. the lord has truly used each of you in
countless ways to encourage, support, and love over these last couple
of years.

I am sitting here with tears in my eyes. We are still waiting for CWA to give us our first court date so we can see our daughter. She is not at Acacia village yet, but hearing your description helped me in this long wait. Thank you!

Meet Micah

This Is How It Began

Allison Lewis Photography

Five Lewis Crew

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.